Bet on a Cowboy. Julie Benson

      Damn. That made him sound like a lecher.

      “Excuse me?” Maggie straightened, hands on her hips, her eyes flashing daggers at Hunter.

       Go get him, Maggie girl. Take the heat off me and give me time to regroup.

      “No offense meant, ma’am.”

      “It’s too late for an apology.” She waved her hand toward Denise. “Not everyone is as lucky as you’ve obviously been in finding someone wonderful.”

       Bless her for feeling the need to defend her show.

      “Thank you.” Denise beamed at Maggie. “I’ve been telling Hunter for years that he doesn’t know how lucky he is.”

      Griffin glanced at his watch. “As much fun as this is, Nick’s band is about to start playing. I’m heading into the other room.”

      He turned and walked away, leaving a good chunk of his pride behind.

      AS MAGGIE AND GRIFFIN found a table near the stage, Hunter and Denise headed straight for the bar, claiming to need a drink. Not that Maggie blamed them for wanting to get away from the awkward undercurrents between her and Griffin. They’d been having so much fun until she’d spoiled everything by bringing up the show.

      How could Griffin expect her to know he didn’t want his friends finding out about his plans? He should’ve briefed her before they arrived. This wasn’t her fault, and she wished he’d quit glaring at her.

      Not wanting to see annoyance flashing in his eyes, Maggie stared at the neon guitars and rope lights hanging above the stage. Plinking sounds as the band tuned up floated through the air, mingling with laughter.

      “You had no business telling my friends about the show.” Griffin’s low, soft voice rattled through her.

      “You do realize they’d find out anyway? You’re going to be on national television. That’s a hard secret to keep.”

      “I wanted to tell everyone in my own way. I definitely wanted my family to know first.”

      “Why on earth haven’t you told them?”

      “We signed the contract tonight and came straight here. When was there time?”

      “I’d have told my family before I signed the contract.” That came out way more judgmental than she’d intended. She paused and softened her voice. He had a point. Just because she’d have handled the situation differently didn’t mean that was right for him. “Are you worried they won’t approve?”

      “No.” His stiff posture and clenched jaw contradicted his confident response.

      Something was going on, and he didn’t want her to know about it. Maggie thought about confronting him, but what could she say other than she didn’t believe him? Calling the bachelor a liar. Not the best way to start out their working relationship.

      “Just remember in the future not to share my personal information without asking me. Now let’s drop the subject and have some fun.”

      His jaw relaxed. The sparkle returned to his eye. Dizzy from his abrupt shift, Maggie had no idea how to respond, or what had caused his instant turn around.

      Griffin stood and held out his hand. “Let’s dance.”

      She glanced at the bodies moving in synchronicity on the wooden floor. No way could she execute those precision steps. The last time she’d line danced was at home, before she headed for NYU, and she’d been lousy then. “It’s been years since I’ve done this. The moves have changed a lot.”

      “Then you’re in luck, because I’m an excellent teacher.”

      Now that she believed.

      “People who have two left feet dance better than I do.”

      “Trust me.”

      His husky voice reached deep inside her, evaporating any fear of embarrassment. He looked at her in a way no man ever had, as if he truly cared about her. As a woman.

      She’d be seeing purple giraffes any time now.

      He was simply being nice. A gentleman. There was nothing more to his actions, but maybe for tonight she could pretend. Maggie placed her hand in his callused one and stood.

      Big mistake.

      Her pulse quickened. Her world spun, and she’d only touched his hand. Lord help her if the band played a slow song and Griffin put his arms around her. She’d probably spontaneously combust.

      On the dance floor, she tried to follow Griffin’s moves. She scooted right, then left, tapping her heels and toes, usually seconds after everyone else. Finally thinking that she might pull this off without too much embarrassment, she zigged when she should’ve zagged, and tromped on Griffin’s right foot. “I’m sorry. Let’s sit—”

      “I’m fine. Maggie girl, just keep moving and have fun.”

      After two rousing line dances, the band played a slow ballad. The gentle strains about a cowboy and his lost love flowed over her. She stared into Griffin’s mesmerizing eyes. He’d say they should take a breather. Get a drink. Go to the restroom, or some other excuse to leave the dance floor. She knew the drill, because that’s what happened with other men whenever the music slowed down.

      Instead, Griffin placed his hand on her back, leaving her shocked and thrilled. He stepped closer. She inhaled deeply and his earthy scent filled her. She’d died and gone to heaven.

       Please don’t let me step on his toes again. I can’t bear to spoil this moment.

      As Griffin glided her around the dance floor, for the first time in her life Maggie felt graceful. His attention focused on her. He wasn’t glancing around the room to trade up. She could get lost in this man, and not care if anyone ever looked for her.

       Stop this. You work together. Nothing but disaster can come from thoughts like that.

      And at the end of the season he would propose to another woman.

      She never should’ve danced with him. She should’ve said she had a migraine. Or a raging toothache. A sudden case of the flu. Anything to avoid being in his arms. How would she ever watch him flirt with other women? Watch him hold the bachelorettes and kiss them? She’d never before wanted to trade places with the women on her show, but now she found herself eager to do just that.

      Knowing all of those reasons why she shouldn’t have danced with him, Maggie wouldn’t have given up the experience for anything.

      But now the ball was almost over, and she had to think of Griffin like every other bachelor she’d worked with in the last six years. But how?

      She’d need a fairy godmother’s intervention to pull off that trick.