Montana

I can’t wash the huge smile from my face, and there’s an extra swing in my hips as I walk towards the band’s table. Peyton’s already there. Everyone’s attention is glued on her, except Carson’s. His eyes scan me head-to-toe multiple times as I approach.

He extends a fresh beer to me. When I grasp it, he pulls me tight to his side before I can take a sip.

“I owe Eli huge for talking the two of you into dancing,” he murmurs huskily ...