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gruffly. “That’s it at least for the next
half an hour and I’m going to bring you some greasy fries to soak
it up. Understand?”
    She nodded like a good girl and leaned her
elbows on top of the bar, staring down at the glass for a few
moments before taking a sip. This time she let the whiskey settle
on her tongue a bit before swallowing. She needed to savor the
sensation. The sensation of falling into oblivion.
    Her eyes drifted upward and she spied a large
red heart dangling from the stiff end of a fake—or not—large fish.
A bass maybe. The paper heart was startlingly, vibrant amongst the
dull browns that invaded nearly every inch of the bar and she
stared at it so long it blurred and she glanced away, feeling a
little dizzy.
    Danny pushed a plate of fries in front of her
and surprisingly enough, she was hungry. “Thanks,” she said softly
as she dug in, tossing a mean look toward one of the men from the
table a few feet away as he slid onto the stool beside her.
    “Mind if I sit here?”
    She swallowed a mouthful of gravy before
answering. “Yeah, I do.”
    “Wow, what’s got you so cranky? Late for a
wedding?” He grinned down at her, but it quickly faded when she let
the frosty, bitchy part of her rise to the surface. It was
something she’d perfected well over the last few years.
    “Not really. The wedding was nearly three
hours ago.”
    “Huh,” he replied.
    “Huh,” she mimicked. “Is that all you
got?”
    The guy brushed his hand through a thick
cropping of curly hair and slid off the chair. He wasn’t bad
looking in an ordinary, bland, sort of way and she was sure he was
perfectly nice—for someone who hung out at The Hard Rock. But she
was done with men. Done with thinking.
    And obviously—as she dripped gravy onto her
lap—done with weddings.
    “You’re a cold one. A real bitch,” he sneered
as he backed away toward his buddies.
    “Tell me something I don’t know,” she
answered, his words triggering a memory that she preferred to keep
hidden, tucked away in that place reserved for the one man who’d
said them before.
    She stared down at her plate and suddenly her
gut rolled. It took a few moments to calm her stomach and when she
did, she slipped off the stool and into her shoes. She then
wandered over to the small dance floor, located in the back corner
near the washrooms. She needed to move and get the blood flowing
because as much as she was all about being badass at the moment,
there was no way in hell she was going to pass out in this
place.
    A small DJ booth was set up in the corner,
just as she remembered and as her foot hit the tired and worn
wooden floor the energetic strains of the Dixie Chicks’, Goodbye
Earl , followed her.
    She laughed—the kind of laugh that had lived
inside her for years before she banished it away—an uninhibited
Julia Roberts kind of moment. And then she twirled, or maybe
staggered a little, but her skirt rolled out into a full circle as
she turned around and let the music invade her tired soul.
    It woke something inside her. Something she’d
forgotten about ages ago. Her fun button. When was the last time
she had done anything just for the sheer pleasure of how it made
her feel? She loved music and she loved to dance.
    She used to do a lot of it with Shane. Hell,
if they weren’t making love they were getting out of hand.
    For one second—one bittersweet second—she let
the pain that always accompanied thoughts of Shane, swell. It grew
and tightened her chest. It clogged her throat and flushed her skin
with something fierce, hot, and dangerous. And for that one moment,
here at the Hard Rock, she felt more alive than she had in a very,
very, long time.
    As the music filled the space around her,
Bobbi lost herself in it and when the song ended, when the loud
raucous melody crashed to its finale, she wasn’t ready to let it
go. She glanced at Danny, her hair sticking to the side of her
face, her skin flushed, and he nodded as if he knew what