Rafe & JJ
Rafe snorted. "Dr. Glitterstar. I'll have to remember that one. You've just earned me no less than six intense glares by teaching me that particular nickname. I hope you'll think nice thoughts about me to balance it out."
He dropped her hand half a second too late, but he covered it by slipping immediately back into conversation, even if his thoughts were still whirling. "Ah, that's probably it. You toured with a buddy of mine for a few months, so probably I saw your face in passing but never actually chatted with you. Shame." He took a long pull of his beer, mostly to give his mouth a chance to relax from the smile he was being sure to keep there. If she really was the person who'd fucked with Sam's head, then he didn't want to tip her off. And if she wasn't, well, it wasn't her baggage to sort out his brain and its intricate processes. Even as he looked over at her, that certainty of her identity began to be tinged with something else that he couldn't quite pinpoint. "What brings you to Montana, then? It's a pretty big hop from glitz and glamour to this. Believe me, I know. Much as I love this place."