The Farmer's Son

Chapter 52 Let the Games Begin

Ray drove them out of the county and into the next one, where the establishments around the railroad tracks had a particular theme.

"Well?" Ray asked, as they walked in the door. "What do you think?"

Alan cast his eye around, lips slightly parted. "I think you were right about my outfit," he said. "It'll do. Barely."

Chuckling, Ray gazed around at the old barn style bar and grill. Weathered walls hung with cowboy hats and longhorns, framed photographs of famous cowboys, and cowboy boots. Nearly every one of the men and woman wore cowboy hats, some even in chaps and jingling spurs, as waitresses in daisy dukes and cowboy boots waited tables, while Western music piped from a jukebox in the corner.

"Carrington is a little more friendly to their cowboys," Ray said, his mouth automatically filling with saliva at the permeating scent of roasted meat and beer.

A waitress with a high blonde ponytail and a nametag that said Jenny on her frilled vest greeted them. "Table for two?" Dark eyes rimmed in black flicked over them, up and down. "Or four?"

"Two," Ray said, smiling under his hat.

A bright, wide grin parted her pink lips. "Right this way, then," she said, her suddenly cheerful voice tinged with a country accent.

When she turned her back, Ray caught Alan's eye, and Alan raised a loose fist to his mouth to hide a laugh in a cough.

The place was split into two halves, a front and back, with the back half up two steps and behind a slated wooden divider. She seated them at a table behind the divider, near the end, and handed over menus. After reciting the specials, she left with their order, returning not long afterwards with two cold beers.

"On the house," Jenny said.

"Are you old enough to drink, Alan?" Ray asked teasingly as he took off his hat and hung it on his knee. He snickered and smothered a grunt as Alan kicked him under the table.

"I won't tell if you don't...Alan," Jenny said, with a suggestive, sultry smile.

Alan lifted the bottle to her and nodded, then held her gaze as he brought it to his lips for a slow drink. Across the table, Ray ducked his head, lips pressed together, eyes squeezed shut, shoulders quaking, not daring to look up until she walked away. Then he descended into restrained laughter.

"Stop that," Alan said in embarrassed amusement. "That was supposed to be pay back for what you did at Hanks."

"Me?" Ray choked out, eyes watering. "What did I do?"

"The minute we got to Hank's, you whipped out your cowboy charms on Kathy and Christy. I'm still mad about that."

"Well, I promise I won't whip out any of my charms tonight," Ray said. "At least, not in public."

Catching the flashing grin, Alan shook his head and rolled his eyes, turning away and hiding a smile in a sip of beer.

Ray chuckled. "If you're going to flirt, I'm going to have to insist you keep those farmboy charms focused on me. Unlike that night with the girls, this is a date. And I may not seem it, but I'm the jealous type."

"Bull," Alan said, even as he tingled with arousal. "You saw a text from some other guy on my phone and basically wished me luck."

"That was different," Ray said with a shrug. "We weren't together yet. But since you brought him up—"

"I didn't bring him up," Alan said hurriedly, trying to squash the topic before it began.

"Since you brought him up," Ray said over him. "Let's talk about Dylan. You know you got a bad habit of not mentioning people. Four months together, and you never said a word about Annabelle. Then there was Dylan. Is there anyone else you're hiding?"