Free Cowboys-Dont-Dance by Missy Lyons

group. Mary Lou’s mother wisely kept her distance but was within arm's length in case her child needed help. The woman was determined her daughter was going to grow up like any other kid, so she made sure Mary Lou participated whenever possible.
    One little fellow who looked to be about four-years-old, remained seated on a bench set up for the adults. The way he had his arms folded made it clear he wasn't planning on joining the group. His mother seemed to be trying her best to get him to join the fun. No matter how much his mom begged and gestured, the little boy’s arms remained tight against his body.
    Angela approached the solitary boy, smiled at his mother and leaned down to talk to him on his own level.
    Ebook piracy is stealing. It is a federal offense.
    Report ebook piracy to [email protected].

    58
    Missy Lyons and Cherie Denis
    “Hey, honey, don’t you want to come dance with us? I promise you'll have loads of fun.”
    He frowned, his cute little nose wrinkled up indignantly. “I don’t wanna.”
    “How come? You know all the other kids."
    “Real cowboys don’t dance.”
    "Oh." Now she got it.
    Someone in this little guy’s life had given him the bright idea dancing wasn’t manly. Probably his daddy or grandpa. No surprise there. Most young men refused to admit they would like to learn to dance. It wasn’t macho. They wanted to do manly things like grunting and tackling each other, tossing a baseball—anything but dancing.
    Boys and men wanted to grow up to be cool like football players or cowboys.
    But most men didn’t realize what they were missing. When a woman was taken out for a night of dancing, it made her feel pretty and adored. Not to mention how sexy some dances could be. If more men realized how aroused women got dancing, they'd all take lessons.
    Men and their stereotypical chauvinistic attitude didn't do her industry any favors.
    There was a shortage of male dancers. Dance groups were always looking for male ballerinas and frequently had to resort to renting a male dancer for feature performances. Too bad men were so dense. It was a great way to earn money. A good male dancer could earn over five hundred dollars an hour.
    “Really? I don't think I've ever heard anyone say cowboys don't dance." Jesse's familiar voice set her heart to thumping as if she'd been running for miles.
    “Yeah, well I have,” the little boy answered.
    “Well, I’m a cowboy.” Jesse flicked his Stetson, and adjusted his brown leather belt with the huge buckle he’d earned riding the worst bull in the ring, Foo Manchu. His stance seemed to be daring the little guy to question his manhood.
    Ebook piracy is stealing. It is a federal offense.
    Report ebook piracy to [email protected].

    Cowboys Don't Dance
    59
    “I know you! You’re Jesse Burke. My daddy says you’re one of the best bull riders in the state of Texas.”
    “Your daddy's right. I am the best, and I have the buckles to prove it. But, I never turn down a dance with a lady. It’s a heck of a lot more fun than ridin’ a bull any day.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah, it’s a lot of fun,” then he winked and whispered in a low voice meant only to be heard by the child, “and it impresses the girls.”
    “Girls? Ewwww.” The boy wrinkled his nose.
    Angela suppressed a giggle. “You’ll change your mind about girls when you're a little older.”
    “No way, lady. Girls got cooties.”
    “No, they don’t, and dancing is something every good cowboy should know how to do, just like riding. You can’t always fake your way through it. So it’s best to learn how.” Jesse held out his hand to the young fellow.
    "My name's Ramsey," the child said before reaching out and wrapping his much smaller fingers around Jesse’s index finger.
    “Okay. I’ll give it a try, but I don’t have to like it.”
    Angela smiled. Jesse was so gentle with Ramsey. He'd make a great dad some day. Angela's smile faded when she realized she'd never have