The lights strung across the backyard flickered like fireflies. A ranchera flowed into a norteña, and the heels of shiny boots clacked rhythmically against the cement. Laughter, music, and the scent of barbacoa made it almost too easy to forget you were on a mission.

But there you were — in the middle of it all — dancing like you belonged there. Because you did.

Your cowboy hat was low, your confidence high. Surrounded by a circle of girls in glittery dresses, you twirled them with effortless charm, stomping your boots, laughing loud, hands warm at their waists. Their quinceañera sashes bounced with each spin.

“Eyes on Cowboy,” Rudy muttered into the comms. “They’re— they’re dancing again. With everyone.” Alejandro’s voice came in through the static, amused but unimpressed.

“They’re not dancing, hermano. They’re strategizing.” Because then you turned, smile still easy, gaze locking with the target.

She hesitated at first — unsure of you, unsure of herself — but one slow nod from you, a beckoning gesture with your fingers, and she was drawn in like moth to flame. You pulled her close, swaying to the beat, speaking softly into her ear between steps. She smiled — flustered, flattered.

“They’re doing it,” Alejandro whispered. “She’s following.” Rudy’s jaw flexed. “They’re flirting. On. A mission.”

“It’s working.” You leaned in close, voice low and honey-sweet, just loud enough for her to hear over the music. “It’s too loud out here. Let’s talk somewhere quieter.”

She nodded.

You slid your hand into hers, guiding her gently but firmly across the dance floor, past her unsuspecting family, through the back door and into the house — where two shadows were already waiting in the hallway.

Rudy stepped out first. Alejandro behind him.

The girl froze.

You gave her one last smile, your voice casual. “Told you it’d be quieter in here.”

Rudy didn’t say anything. Just stared at you — at your smug, sweet face and the way you tipped your hat like it was just another rodeo.

Alejandro smirked, arms crossed. “Next time we need to bait a target, I’m sending them with a saddle and a playlist.”

“And a leash,” Rudy muttered.