Chapter Seven

Collin

“All right, so you’re telling me you have a date then,” Owen said.

“Not really a date, per se,” I said. “I feel like it’s arguing semantics, but we never actually established that it was a date. Just going out for a drink.”

“But you are going the two of you.”

“Well, I mean, you will be there. Presumably Logan too.”

“Yes, but you will be sitting with her. Away from us. And probably dancing.”

“I guess,” I said. “I mean, we didn’t plan anything.”

Owen sighed frustratedly. “Collin, you don’t plan every moment of a date beforehand. It’s kind of a play-by-ear thing.”

“I know that,” I said. “I went on dates before.”

“Did you?” he asked. “I don’t remember any.”

“You were a little kid.”

“Jesus,” he muttered. “You mean to tell me your last date was before you went to the military?”

“Yeah…”

“Oh my God,” Owen said, shaking his head. “This is going to be a whole thing, isn’t it?”

“What does that mean?”

Owen stood, crossing my room and heading to the closet. He opened it up and began rifling through the clothes on the rack. If it had been anyone but Owen, I’d have thrown something at him by now, but I had a soft spot for my baby brother.

Also, he might be able to bodily throw me out of the window. Not that I’d admit it.

“This isn’t going to work,” he muttered to himself, appraising some shirt I had hanging. “Do you even own anything nice?”

“Nice? Define nice.”

“Like… like a date nice. I don’t know how to define it, Collin. Not a suit, but not clothes you’d wear out with the horses. Nice.”

“Church kind of clothes.”

“No. You don’t need to meet Jesus in it, Collin. Just a girl.”

“I don’t know. Not in there most likely. I have some new shirts and stuff in the other closet.”

“The… other closet?”

“Mom’s,” I said. “You’re in Dad’s old closet. That’s where I keep my everyday clothes. Mom’s closet has the stuff I don’t wear much or haven’t taken out of the packaging yet. And my uniform.”

Owen crossed the room to the other closet and yanked open the door.

“What in the name of Adrian Monk is this?”

“What? Who is that?”

He waved me off. “TV show. Don’t worry about it. What is this?”

I went to see what he was motioning toward and shrugged. “I told you I had stuff I hadn’t worn yet.”

“Collin, this is four stacks of four different shirts,” he said. “Eight of each of them. Identical. Why do you have this?”

“In case the ones in the closet get worn out and I have to donate them or get rid of them.”

“This is… weird, brother. Weird. But perfect for tonight. Here, take this one.”

He handed me a blue and white flannel shirt, still in the plastic packaging it was wrapped in when I ordered ten of them off Amazon.

“All right,” I said.

“Now go put it on, and if you have a stack of jeans like this anywhere, put a pair of those on too.”

“Bottom drawer of the dresser,” I said. “Left-hand side. All of those still have their tags.”

“God, you are odd,” he said, opening the drawer, pulling out a pair of jeans, and tossing them to me. “Go get dressed. Let me see what we’re working with here.”

“When did you become Captain Fashion?” I asked.

“When my brother told me he hadn’t had a date in over a decade,” he said. “You need help, and I’m your brother. And I’m probably the only brother you have that won’t make fun of you for this, so get to moving.”

“Fair point.”

I went into the bathroom, changing into the clothes and removing the tags and cardboard under the collar of the shirt. They fit nicely, which was why I’d bought them. It was rare to find anything that fit my body type. Either they weren’t long enough for my legs, or they weren’t skinny enough for my waist, or the shirts didn’t have wide enough shoulders, or they had wide enough shoulders but they were made for men who weighed two hundred and fifty pounds. It was just plain difficult.

When I walked out of the bathroom, Owen shot me a thumbs-up.

“This is good. You look presentable to a woman. At least one going to Crockett’s. Now what time did you say you’d meet her?”

“Nine,” I said.

“Shit, all right, get your boots on. I’ll drive you.”

“Why? I can drive.”

“You know what, you’re right. You should drive. In case she needs a ride home, you should be the one driving her, not me. That means go easy on the liquor tonight.”

I paused and let him assess what he just said and who he’d just said it to. His face screwed up in acknowledgement, but he refused to say anything about it.

“Right,” I said, giving him the break he needed to move on.

“Right,” he repeated. “It’s eight now. You need to get over there. You always want to be there before the girl gets there. Get a booth, not a table. Preferably in a dark corner but accessible to the dance floor. Bring a jacket.”

“Why a jacket? It’s not cold.”

“So you can leave it on the table when you go dance. So no one steals your spot.”

“Oh,” I said. “That makes sense. Usually, if you guys go dancing, I stay at the table and hold down the fort.”

“Which you can’t do. On account of dancing with the lady. But I’ll keep an eye out. If anyone tries to steal your spot, I’ll… uhh… make sure they don’t.”

I didn’t doubt he would.

“Thanks, Owen,” I said. “I appreciate your help.”

“Anytime,” he said. “Remember, Jesse’s going to be there with Charlotte. People are going to be there to hang out and see him, but he’s not performing. Should be a busy night, but one where you can go mostly unnoticed.”

“Got it,” I said.

Owen nodded and left, leaving me to get socks on and do any final adjustments in the mirror. I tried to take deep breaths and calm my thudding heart. It was more than the fact that I was going out for a date; it was the girl herself. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since she’d agreed to the date, and honestly, before that was a little spotty too.

I felt like a teenager again. In a good way.

I headed to the bar in the pickup, and when I arrived, there were already very few parking spaces. Jesse’s car was parked near the front, and I had a feeling I knew what kind of circus I was going to encounter when I got in there.

Like I expected, the bar was crowded, but it was almost all centered around one table, circling out from there. At that table sat Jessie, his girlfriend Charlotte and the guy I recognized as the DJ from the wedding. Another person was also there with a woman, and my brain said I knew who they were but when I looked for names, it came up short.

Slinking past the crowd, I made my way to the upper level of the half-bowl and grabbed an empty booth in the corner, just like Owen suggested. I’d no more sat down than I saw Owen walk in himself, spot me and wave, then disappear into the crowd, heading toward the bar.

I settled into my spot, not concerned about getting food or drinks in my current anxious state. My eyes were fixed firmly on the door. I wasn’t moving them until I saw her come in.

I checked my watch. Still fifteen minutes to go until nine. I needed to relax.

“Can I get you something, hon?”

“Oh, hey, Becky,” I said, looking up into the frazzled face of Becky Taylor. “Johnny call out tonight?”

“No, he’s here,” she said. “Just got a little busy, and Bob is running the bar like a madman, so I came out to check on the tables.”

“Ahh, well, nice to see you.”

“You don’t need anything?”

“You know, I might as well,” I said. “If it’s no trouble.”

“Hon, for you, it’s never any trouble. I don’t know another person that tips a hundred percent and has never tried to hit on me. What can I get ya?”

“Whisky and pop,” I said. “Double if you can. I’m on a date.”

She looked across the booth to the empty spot and then back to me with a worried smile.

“You are, huh?”

“She’s not here yet,” I said. “But she’s going to be.”

“Should I… get her something… too?”

“I don’t know what she likes,” I said, suddenly realizing my chance to get a drink for her before Becky was too busy was disappearing, and it would look rude if I had one and she didn’t. “Oh, man. I don’t know.”

“Why don’t I just get two of your drink?” she asked cheerfully. “That way, you know, if she doesn’t want it , you have a backup.”

“That’s smart,” I said, willfully ignoring the fact that she thought I’d finally cracked and was inventing company for the evening. “Let’s do that.”

“Another double?”

“Yup,” I said.

“All right,” she said, “I’ll be back in a minute with your drinks.”

“Thanks, Becky,” I said.

As she walked away, she glanced back over her shoulder once at me, and I knew what was going through her mind. Good ol’ Collin has finally gone over the edge. It wasn’t some secret that I was odd already. The other Galloways were rough and tumble cowboys who drank hard and partied harder. Then there was me, who rarely showed up, and when I did, I usually drank soda and sat quietly with a smile on my face as I watched my brothers enjoy themselves.

Jesse seemed to be enjoying the spotlight and was showing off his girlfriend as well. A roar of laughter came from the area where his table was, and I could just imagine him holding court with some off-color joke.

Movement in the distance caught my eye, and I looked up to see the door opening. Through it walked two people: Basil and then Brandy. A slight pang of disappointment weighed on me when I saw Basil, tempering the leap my heart made when I saw Brandy. But as soon as they were in, Brandy’s eyes scanned the room until she found me, then she waved and turned to hug Basil. They separated, with Basil heading toward the bar and Brandy heading toward me.

Maybe it was a date after all.

I strode toward her as confidently as I could muster and met her in the middle with a friendly, but not lingering, hug.

“Good to see you,” I said.

“Good to see you. You look nice.”

“You look… fantastic.”

She giggled, and her cheeks flushed.

Fantastic wasn’t the word for how she looked, but I wasn’t exactly a poet, so it would have to do. She was wearing a buffalo pattern shirt, but it was thin and tight, tied at her stomach in a knot and unbuttoned rather far down. While I couldn’t see the outline of her bra, I damn near could, and there was a lot of real estate to see on the way there.

I had to pull my eyes away so as to not be rude, but it was probably the most difficult time I’d had doing that in my lifetime. I about-faced and placed my hand on the small of her back, pointing out our booth.

“I got us a spot over here. Hope you don’t mind it’s so far away from the bar. Becky’s got some drinks coming for us.”

“Oh, you ordered for me?”

“Just so you’d have something,” I said. “I didn’t know what to get you, so I got what I was getting.”

“What’s that?”

“Whisky and pop,” I said.

She laughed. “That’s exactly what I would have ordered anyway.”

I grinned. The music suddenly cut on, and the dance floor, which had been littered with a smattering of people on the outside of the circle surrounding Jesse’s table, began to move toward the center.

“Well, since the drinks aren’t here yet, would you like to dance?”

“Getting right to the fun, aren’t you?” she joked.

“I don’t like wasting time,” I said.

“Good. Neither do I.”

She took my hand, and I led her down the stairs to the dance floor, hardly able to believe my luck.