well.”
“That’s bloody unlikely.” Jensen chuckled at the possibility. “Mum is just being social. She’s quite the mingler. Besides, Mr. Mendoza and she are true opposites.” He took a sip of his Guinness. “If she were to ever...well, become romantically involved with anyone, it would be with someone like my father. He was her soul mate—and one in a million.” He paused and looked off in the distance.
In fact, he looked beyond Mr. Mendoza and Lady Josephine, who appeared so deep in conversation that they probably didn’t even notice that Jensen was no longer sitting with them—much like Gram and Elmer did whenever Amber was around. Talk about a couple of third wheels. Amber had to laugh. Now that’s something she and Jensen did have in common—the fact that they found themselves as odd men out.
“Anyway,” the handsome blue blood continued, “why would my mum ever remarry when the only man she’d ever find would be someone who would fall short in her eyes?”
Amber looked over at the silver-haired British woman and the suave Orlando Mendoza. The two didn’t seem to be all that mismatched to her.
But what did she know about romance or soul mates?
Then again, maybe Jensen was actually talking about his feelings for Amber—warning her that even though they shared a passionate kiss, he would never marry someone who clearly fell short in his eyes.
That had to be it. Okay, that was a no-brainer.
The waitress returned with the margarita that Amber didn’t want, but she took a sip of it anyway to still her emotions and to cool whatever flush might have risen to the surface. But this time, she could blame it on the alcohol.
Fortunately, Gram and Elmer returned to save Amber from any further speculation of how unsuitable she and Jensen were.
As Elmer helped Gram into her seat, he said, “I’d have to say that me and Helen have the dance contest in the bag. They’re going with Tony Bennett. Again. Talk about Snoozeville. I’ll slip Clem Hodgkins a fiver to make sure we go after them. The Baumgartners will put the crowd to sleep, and then me and Helen will come along and bam! We’ll wake ’em right back up.”
Gram’s laughter tinkled out, and Amber had to wonder if she was merely being polite, or if she actually enjoyed the old man’s antics.
“So what music did you two select?” Jensen asked.
“Cotton-Eye Joe,” Elmer said smugly.
Amber slapped her hand to her forehead.
“What?” Elmer asked. “Do you think it’s too slow paced? Should we choose something livelier?”
Gram looked at her dancing partner, a furrow in her sweet brow, and Amber dumped the tequila shot into her margarita and took another drink. Heaven help her.
“Would you excuse me?” Jensen asked. “I need to tell my mother and Orlando that I’ve temporarily jumped ship.”
When he walked away, Elmer leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Did you do any fancy trick shooting for your audition?” Then he looked at Gram. “Maybe we should incorporate some pistols or something in our dance routine to really give it some pizzazz.”
“No!” Amber nearly shot out of her seat. When the other diners turned to look at their table, she lowered her voice. “No, you two may not do any trick shooting. It’s bad enough I have to worry about Gram breaking a hip, I don’t want to worry about her accidentally shooting somebody’s eye out.”
“What’s this about trick shooting?” Jensen asked, as he returned to the table.
“Amber is the best,” Elmer said.
“Like Annie Oakley?” Jensen’s smile was eager and almost hopeful.
The guy really needed to get a grip on this whole over-the-top Wild West fascination. Of course, it was people like him who would be paying customers, eager to see her show.
“Yes,” Amber admitted, “but when I do trick shooting, it’s in a controlled environment.”
“Oh.” The corners of his lips dropped and a look of dejection crossed his face. “So you don’t really know how to shoot then.”
Heck, the man acted as if she’d just told him Santa Claus wasn’t real. “Of course I know how to shoot.”
“A real gun?” His eyes sparkled with that same gleam Elmer’s had right before he’d confronted the Baumgartners.
“Yes, a real gun. I’m an excellent shot.”
“Care to make a wager on it?” Jensen smiled and cast a glance at Elmer, who’d scooted to the edge of his seat.
“I believe you still owe me from the last wager we made,” she pointed out. Their barbecue date had understandably been waylaid by Amelia’s recent delivery. And Amber had been looking forward to it.
“So then double or nothing,” Elmer shouted out, having no idea what the bet was in the first place. The man just loved a competition.
Amber lifted her brow at Jensen, waiting to see how he would react to the old marine’s suggestion.
But he didn’t give it a second thought. “Yes. Double or nothing.”
Jensen wasn’t sure what the old man had planned for today’s shooting competition, but he knew one thing for certain—he had no plans of winning.
If he lost, he’d get to take Amber out on two dates, since he’d yet to collect on their original wager. And he’d been looking forward to their barbecue dinner.
Losing didn’t come easy to a man who’d grown up competitive. And he’d never thrown a bet in his life.
But for Amber, the temptation had been far too great to resist.
He shook his head at the silly trail of thoughts. The bloody competition had yet to even begin and he’d already planned his surrender. The little Texas cowgirl was making his mind spin in funny directions. Something about her had him doing things he’d never think of doing back in England.
He rolled the window down. Maybe it wasn’t Amber. Maybe it was something in the western breeze that blew tumbleweeds across the fields in summer and English bachelors willy-nilly in January.
Even his penchant for old cowboy movies couldn’t explain the relaxing effects of being in Texas. And for once, overseeing the family investments and holdings, as well as Chesterfield Ltd., and keeping his siblings out of the tabloid limelight no longer seemed like the only things that mattered.
For some damned reason, he now found himself watching airplanes take off, riding horses on bulky Western saddles out to watering holes and kissing a rodeo queen behind a darkened feed store. He also found himself smiling for no reason at all, which he hadn’t done since...well, in longer than he cared to ponder.
Now, as he eased Quinn’s pickup along
