“Yep.”
“You raising Black Angus? Or Herefords?”
Tell studied her. It’d been a while but he still recognized the switch—cranking the charm on high meant she wanted something from him. Time to let her know he wasn’t the gullible teen boy he’d been. “Do you really care?”
That caught her by surprise. “Yes. Why would I ask if I didn’t?”
“’Cause small talk ain’t ever been your style.”
She didn’t deny it.
He took it a step further. “Besides, I get the feeling you came here tonight lookin’ for me.”
“Cocky much? I didn’t ask you to join me, Tell. So feel free to leave.”
And that retort was so old-school Georgia-like he had to grin. “There’s the glare I remember. I prefer it to that fake flirting thing you do.”
“Fake flirting? You don’t think much of me, do you, McKay?”
“I haven’t seen you in a decade and I ain’t gonna pretend I know you. Likewise, you don’t know me. So you oughta understand that I’m a straight-shooter. If you wanna continue this conversation, you’d best be up front about what you want from me, without dousing me with your feminine wiles.”
Georgia laughed. “Now I remember why I always liked you.”
“Because I was easily manipulated?”
“I see you’re still tossing off those one-liners every chance you get in an attempt to charm and distract.”
Ouch. He deserved that. It surprised him that she remembered that about him. He smiled. “Now we’re getting someplace. So spill it, hot lips.”
“You are right. I did come to the bar tonight looking for you to ask if you’re going to the class reunion in two weeks.”
“I’d planned on going to the Saturday night stuff, but not the Friday family picnic.”
“Do you have a date?”
Why did his heart rate spike? “Not yet. Why?”
She blurted, “Will you be my date?”
After the shock wore off, Tell leaned forward. “For real, Georgia?”
“For real. I hadn’t planned on going to the reunion. What a fun way to spend an evening, dealing with the stares, rude comments and whispers about why Deck and I are divorced. Or hearing about what a tragedy it was that RJ got killed driving drunk.”
“So what changed your mind?”
Her pale-blue eyes remained on his. “Seeing you last night.”
Don’t fall for it. Demand a solid reason. “Because…?”
“Because you know how to have fun. And if I went with you, I might have a chance at having fun.”
“Your change of heart about revisiting those glory days isn’t because Deck hates my guts and it’d be a hard poke at him to show up with me on your arm?”
She allowed a tiny, embarrassed smile. “Okay. Maybe that’s part of it. And you have to admit it’d be a great bit of drama if we showed up together.”
He grinned. “That it might.”
“And I can’t go to the family picnic that Friday either. I’ll be out of town for a job.”
“I never asked what you’re doin’ for a living that allowed you to move back to Sundance.”
“I work for an event management company out of Dallas. We have a PR arm and an advertising arm, and we mostly handle promotion for events like rodeos, concerts and benefits.”
“What’s the name of the company?”
“Barb Wyre PR. Ever heard of it?”
He had heard of it. Recently. “The committee that hired me as a judge for the rodeo in Buffalo next weekend mentioned L bar K had been bought out by another company.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait a second. You’re a PRCA judge?”
“For over two years.”
“I’m not surprised. I figured you’d always have a foot in the rodeo world. Seems to be an addiction.”
Tell knew that Deck was a judge too, but they’d never worked a rodeo together, and he’d always been thankful for that. “How many other rodeos is your company providing promotion for this summer?”
“Twenty, right now. We seem to add more every week. Why?”
Tell’s mind was churning. This could be his chance not only to get more judging gigs, but to get Georgia Hotchkiss where he’d always wanted her: on his arm in public and in his bed. “Do you have judges scheduled for all those events?”
“I’d have to look, but I’m betting not. Not all rodeos are PRCA-sanctioned.”
“I know. I’ve worked quite a few that aren’t.”
“How many PRCA events are you scheduled to judge this summer?”
“Only four. Which ain’t bad, considering I haven’t been doin’ it that long and I’ve mostly been judging small rodeos in the area during the summer.”
“Have you pissed off one of the higher-ups in the regional PRCA judge management?”
“Not so far as I know. The only thing I can think of is the committees that hire companies like yours are goin’ with judges who have more years on the dirt. How am I supposed to get experience if I don’t get the chance to judge?”
Georgia thoughtfully drummed her fingers on the table. “That is a catch-22, isn’t it?”
“But you could help me change that. We could help each other out. If you like how I conduct myself, then you could drop my name to the committees that hire judges for non-PRCA rodeos. Extolling my…qualifications.”
“And what would I get in return?”
Tell bestowed his most charming grin. “I’d be your date for the reunion. Might be fun, bein’ the stick you use to poke Deck and anyone else who wants to take a whack at you.”
A strange expression flitted across her face, but she hadn’t automatically said no.
“What?”
“Won’t our classmates think it’s a setup? Or worse, that you’re my date strictly out of pity? I don’t want to be pitied, Tell.”
That could be a problem for both of them. He snapped his fingers as a solution occurred to him. “Then we’ll just have to convince everyone in town that we’re crazy about each other in the next two weeks before the reunion.”
“By pretending to be together?”
“Oh, sweetness, there wouldn’t be no pretending. We’d be together for real.”
“Define ‘for real’.”
His gaze encompassed her face, then dipped to her chest, and he didn’t bother to bank his lust when their eyes met again. “You want me as your date for the reunion? I’ll also be sharin’ your bed.”