“Fine.”
“Anybody home?” called a familiar, beautiful voice.
His body clenched as if bracing for a blow.
“In here, Katie-Lynn!” shouted Sierra, still staring up into his face. “Sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” he muttered under his breath, needing his sister to move her eagle eye off him. “And she’s Katlynn now.”
When Katie-Lynn appeared in the kitchen, Sierra flung herself across the space and hugged her old friend tight. “Good to see you, girl!”
“You, too.” Katie-Lynn’s eyes met Cole’s over his sister’s shoulder, and he ducked his head and draped his damp towel over the drying rack. “Thanks for letting me stay, Mr. Love—”
She broke off when Boyd waved a spatula at her.
“Boyd,” she amended with a slight catch in her voice. Cole glanced up and caught the pretty flush rising in her cheeks, her eyes still on him.
“Want to come line-dancing with us? Heath’s playing, and he’s doing some originals, too.”
“Oh—uh—I’m not sure,” Katie-Lynn wavered, her gaze now shadowed by her long, lowered lashes.
“It’ll be fun,” Sierra implored.
Katie-Lynn smoothed a hand over her sleek black dress, drawing his attention to the lush curves beneath the expensive fabric. Unwelcome heat flared inside him. “I’m not exactly dressed for the Hoedown Throwdown.”
“I’ll loan you something. We’re probably still the same size.” Sierra stepped back, sizing Katlynn up. “Give or take.”
“Um. I have interviews set up in the morning, so I should probably just go on up to bed.”
“At eight o’clock?” Sierra scoffed, ever the dog on a bone when she wanted something bad enough. As the only girl among five brothers, she’d learned fast how to assert herself.
“She’s too fancy for country line-dancing,” Cole heard himself say, the words flying from his tongue without his permission.
“Excuse me?” A slight twang entered Katie-Lynn’s voice as it rose a half octave. “I’ve probably forgotten more steps than you’ll ever know.”
“Those sound like fighting words,” Boyd observed, leaning against the counter.
Cole stepped close and Katie-Lynn angled her face up to his, her chin jutting. “I don’t believe you.”
“Want to bet?” Katie-Lynn challenged, her cool, controlled mask slipping. Before him stood the competitive country girl who used to dare him to climb trees as high as her, race horses as fast, catch as many trout. And he’d lost almost as often as he’d won. Not that he’d cared. Then.
“You’re on,” he said, unable to resist her sparkling eyes.
“It’s a dance-off!” Sierra rubbed her hands together. “And I’ll be the judge. Cole, what are you betting?”
“If I win, Katie-Lynn finds another place to stay.”
Katie-Lynn’s head shake silenced his father’s and Sierra’s protests. “No need to worry. I’m not planning on losing.” Her nose flared, and her left eyebrow twitched up.
“What’ll you get if you win?” Sierra smacked Cole with a death-by-glare look.
“TBD,” Katie-Lynn announced, her radiant expression mischievous and daring. His breath caught at the glimpse of the gutsy girl he’d fallen for years ago. “Come on, Sierra. Show me some jeans. The real kind without a designer label.”
And with that, the two women disappeared up the stairs, leaving Cole to stare after them.
“What’s TBD mean?” his father asked.
TBD. To be determined. Which could mean anything. He had to win this dance-off and get the intriguing Katlynn Brennon as far from him as possible. She’d already messed with his head and his heart enough for one lifetime.
He hung his head and peered up at his pa.
“It means I’m a dang fool.”
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