enough to cut off the blood supply to his brain. He lounged against the railing, bestowing a boyish grin on a passing female. The smile became a leer as he followed the woman’s progress to the ladies’ room.
Emily averted her eyes and sank down in her seat. What had she ever seen in him? And what would Houston think about her poor taste in men if her ex happened to wander by and introduce himself? Would she survive the embarrassment? Emily turned away, popping her elbow onto the table and resting her palm against her forehead, hiding behind her hand.
“Hi, I'm Tina,” a model-perfect waitress informed them, shouting over the top 40 country tune blaring from the speakers. “What would you like to drink?”
The petite beauty wore black cowboy boots, black jeans, and a hardly-there black T-shirt. Bold, white letters blazed across her bust claiming her as a member of Team Cowboy . Tina topped off her ensemble with a scarlet Stetson, which stood out like a red traffic light. Though, from her flirtatious smile, Emily guessed the splash of color functioned as a green light … for hot blooded men everywhere.
Although the waitresses were all dressed the same, Emily couldn’t shake the notion that she’d seen Tina before. It took her a moment, but she finally placed the woman. This server had made a splash on local news when she’d snagged the attention of a visiting Prince Harry. Seeing Tina in living color, Emily could see why she’d caught the royal’s eye. But Houston barely glanced at the bronzed beauty.
“We need a few more minutes, if you don’t mind.”
The woman winked at him in response. “No problem, cowboy. I’ll be back in a flash.” Tina headed off to her next table, wiggling her derriere in Houston’s direction, though he seemed completely oblivious to her charms.
“Are you okay?” he asked as a remixed Hank Williams complained about someone’s cheatin’ heart.
“Yes. Of course,” Emily replied in her best nonchalant voice. “Why?”
“Because you’re holding your head like you need an aspirin.”
She peeked through her fingers and met Houston’s eyes. This was ridiculous. She couldn’t hide all evening. So what if her ex was here? It was all ancient history between them. If Houston didn’t like the fact that she’d actually managed to date other men (no matter how tenuous their claim to that title) before he arrived on the scene, then it was his problem, not hers.
She slapped her hand against the table and sat upright. As soon as she did, Gord Hogan, who was dancing with a woman half his age, caught her eye and gave her a wave. He nudged a boogying buddy at his side. The guy looked up and nodded in Emily’s direction. She remembered the man. He was another horse owner. She’d helped one of his mares through a difficult birthing in the spring.
She waved back to them then checked the rest of the room, to see if there was anyone else she knew. The only thing Emily discovered was a strange incongruity about her date. Here he was, among cowboys like himself, and no one seemed to recognize him.
* * *
There was definitely something wrong. In spite of her denials, Emily was behaving like an actress with opening night jitters.
Brandon had thought Cowboys would provide the right atmosphere for their date. Sam told him the bar was famous among his set and, knowing Emily’s interest in cowboys, he was positive she’d love it. But here she was, holding her head again. Sure the music was loud, but he couldn’t shake the idea there was more to her discomfort.
“Emily?” Brandon reached across the table and touched her hand, held it in his. “Don’t get too comfortable. I thought we’d have a quick drink here to start the evening off, but it’s just the first stop I have planned. Okay with you?”
“More than okay.” She needn’t have uttered a word. That smile of hers had relief written all over it. He wasn’t sure why, but at this point, he didn’t care. The problem was