When they finished eating, Case began to introduce her to an endless stream of his friends, including Jeff Hartley, a local rancher who appeared to be without a date for the party, and Drew and Beth Farrell, to name a few. Some of them—such as Dr. Reese—Mellie knew already, at least in passing.
Royal wasn’t all that big. Families tended to own the same land for generations. Drew and Beth shared the story of how they had been not-so-friendly neighbors until the wicked F4 tornado stranded them together in a storm cellar.
All of Case’s circle of friends were interesting people. Beneath the social chitchat, though, Mellie knew what Case was thinking. Because she was thinking about it, too. Sex. Naked, wild, exploratory sex. Two people attracted to each other without much else in common.
When Case was pulled into a conversation that seemed to be more business than pleasure, Mellie hung back on the far edges of the room, listening to the band and chatting with Amanda and Nathan. Unfortunately, her support team was heading out early.
Amanda hugged Mellie. “It’s been a fun evening, but Nathan was up at five this morning. We’re going home.”
Mellie returned the hug. “Thank you again for the dress. I think Case likes it.”
Nathan snorted. “Every man in the room likes it. You’re a knockout, Mellie Winslow.”
“Hey.” Amanda pinched her husband’s arm. “I’m standing right here.”
He scooped her up and gave her a thorough kiss, one that left Amanda pink cheeked and starry-eyed. “Mellie knows I only have eyes for you, sweetheart. Don’t you, Mellie?”
“I do. And she feels the same way about you. Now go home before you get arrested for public indecency.”
Their laughter was equal parts smug and rueful.
Watching the Battles walk across the dance floor to the exit gave Mellie a funny twinge in her chest. Amanda and Nathan had known each other forever. Their relationship was rock solid, and they were more in love today than they had ever been.
What would it be like to have that kind of security and trust in a relationship?
She was still rattling that question around in her head when a young cowboy came up to her and asked for a dance. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-one or twenty-two. Mellie felt ancient in comparison, but his earnest invitation was sweet.
They moved around the dance floor in silence. The young cowhand seemed nervous, because he glanced in Case’s direction now and then. “Mr. Baxter is giving me the evil eye,” he said.
“Don’t mind him. You and I are having a nice dance. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Your dad is Harold Winslow, right?”
Mellie stumbled slightly. “Um, yes. Why do you ask?”
Now the invitation made more sense.
The kid cleared his throat. “My cousin owns one of the shops out at the Courtyard. Word got around this week that your dad is thinking of selling the place. It’s made folks nervous about their businesses. When I saw you here tonight, I thought I’d get an answer straight from the horse’s mouth.”
“You might want to rethink that comparison,” Mellie said drily.
The cowhand blushed. “You know what I mean. Is it true?”
Mellie mulled over her answer. “It may be true that my father has been talking big and throwing his weight around. But I’m part owner of the company, too, and as far as I know, there are no plans to sell. Who is your cousin, anyway?”
“Raina Patterson. She owns the antiques store Priceless.”
“Oh, yes... I know her. Please tell Raina I’ll be out to see her in the next couple of weeks to set things straight. And tell her she has a sweet cousin.”
Now the wrangler’s neck and ears were as red as the stripe in his Western shirt. “Thank you, ma’am. Nice dancing with you.”
Mellie had no sooner grabbed a glass of punch than Case appeared at her side again. For a big man, he surely was quiet and fast when he wanted to be. “Should I bow or salute?” she asked. “Now that you’re officially the president and all?”
He snagged her glass and took a sip, his lips landing exactly where hers had been. “I saw the young pup encroaching on my territory. Don’t you know you’re supposed to throw the small ones back in the water?”
“Very funny. He’s a sweetheart.”
“I’ll bet. He was one of the brave ones. Every unattached guy in this room is thinking about doing what he did.”
“You do know how to flatter a girl.” She smiled, her confidence buoyed by Case’s wry observations.
Case lifted an eyebrow when a tall man with shaggy brown hair and green eyes approached them. The man gave Mellie an appreciative glance. “I don’t know how you ended up dancing with Case,” the man said, “but I’d be love to take a turn on the dance floor with you, pretty lady.”
“Well, I—”
“This one’s taken,” Case said, glowering. He glanced at Mellie. “Meet my buddy Logan Wade. He likes fast horses and fast women, not necessarily in that order.”
Mellie laughed. “Nice to meet you, Logan.”
Logan shook her hand, his grip warm and firm. “Don’t listen to him. I’m harmless. Case is the ladies’ man in our group. At least I’m not opposed to marriage on principle.”
From the look on Case’s face, he wasn’t amused by his friend’s ribbing.
Case glanced at his watch. “I’ve done my time,” he muttered. “Mellie and I are going to get out of here. This crowd will party for several more hours.”
Logan kissed Mellie’s hand theatrically. “When you get tired of this guy, give me a call.”
Case’s mood soured. Was Mellie tempted by Logan Wade’s offer? Surely not. But the other man was definitely popular with women. They loved his easy-going personality.
Case shoved aside the unwelcome realization that Mellie might be looking for something more than Case wanted to offer. He had enjoyed the evening more than he’d thought he would. But right now he was focused on the after-party.
He hoped Mellie was on the same page, because he was wired and hungry. For a brief moment he thought about heading straight to the ranch. It was possible once they got to Mellie’s house, she would change her mind.
At a stop sign, in the glare of a streetlight, he studied her profile. “Penny for your thoughts,” he said lightly. Surely she wasn’t actually thinking about Logan’s smooth flirtation. The other rancher was only trying to needle Case.
When she gave Case her full attention, her luminous, deep eyes drew him in. For a moment, he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Then she drew a visible breath. “Will you tell me about your wife?”
The question was way down on the list of things he’d expected her to say. “Is that a prerequisite for tonight?”
“I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
“I’m not angry,” he said, gripping the steering wheel. “But it’s old news.”
“I’d still like to know. Please...”
He shrugged, wishing he had loosened his bow tie. “I was young and stupid. Leslie worked for my dad. She saw me as a meal ticket, I guess. Dad tried to warn me...suggested a prenup. But I refused. We’d been married for six months when Leslie cleaned out two of my bank accounts and skipped the