Wayback, Texas Series
Two years ago Roxie Starr left behind her life as a Vegas showgirl and came home to Wayback, Texas to open a styling salon. She claims she’s there to help with her younger sister, but the truth is age was catching up to her body and the time had come to step out of the chorus line.
Fighting against a nagging injury, Dev Laredo is determined to finish one last rodeo. He won’t return to his Oklahoma ranch until he’s won enough to cover his brother’s college tuition. The sight of a sassy redhead sparks his interest, but her tender ministrations to his injury touch his lonely heart. Can two bruised souls put aside their differences and give love a fighting chance?
On the small dance floor, a statuesque redhead twirled, her body tucking close then spinning away from a cowboy who barely kept in step. By the drum’s beat, he guessed the dance was the two-step but her moves were like none he’d seen before.
Every step was accented with an extra shimmy or bounce or twirl. A red tank highlighted full breasts and narrow waist, and jeans clung to slim hips and thighs. On her feet were a pair of fire-engine red sandals with sky-high heels.
Dev’s throat went dry and he couldn’t pull away his gaze. The beauty’s body was the definition of rhythm as the couple moved around the floor. The last guitar twang faded and she released her partner’s hand. Another guy grabbed her hand, spinning her in tight circles around his body before grabbing her free hand and pulling her close.
She tossed back her head and let out a throaty laugh. “Easy, cowboy.”
The warm, rich sound of her voice rose over the music and the conversation, and wrapped around Dev’s senses. Suddenly, his tiredness eased. Ignoring the pain, he twisted to grab his beer, squeezed the lime wedge over the opening and chugged down several swallows. The cold liquid wet his mouth and throat but did nothing for the awareness sparking to life deep inside.
Pathetic. He turned on the stool and rested both forearms on the bar. Stop mooning over a well-built woman just because she knows a few dance steps. For a full minute, he focused on reading the labels of the liquor bottles shelved opposite. Then a streak of red flashed in the wide mirror behind the bar and his attention was caught—again.