Chapter One
~Maverick~
Country music blares away in Tipsy’s Bar and Grill as the good folk of Juniper Creek, Oklahoma drink and dance the night away just like they would on any other night of the year, and just like any other night of the year, I’m stewing in what my siblings refer to as one of my “moods.” What they really mean is that I’m a grumpy bastard, but they’re too afraid to say those exact words.
Ever since I was caught up in a fire in the barn a year after our parents died, they’ve walked on eggshells around me, worried that I’ll retreat even further into myself than I already have. It’s not like I was much of an extrovert before the accident, but its different now.
When the barn caught fire during a lightning storm, I didn’t think twice about running in to get the horses out. I certainly didn’t think a beam would fall on my leg, breaking my hip. The horses got out fine, but by the time my brothers pulled me out, I was in bad shape. The accident left me with burn scars up myback, neck and one side of my face as well as a pretty bad limp from where the beam fell.
I used to be better about making conversation, smiling at strangers, being less of an asshole overall. Besides my appearance and ability to walk comfortably for long periods of time, it’s not like much had changed, but you’d be surprised how much those two things can affect a person’s ability to see the bright side of the whole situation. Before the accident, I was never really focused on my looks, simply dressing for the job of working a ranch and making sure I looked nice enough when I went out to the bar to grab the attention of a woman for a drink, a dance, and maybe one night of fun before going home to sleep alone. I wouldn’t call myself a ladies man, but I had never hurt for attention, and when I did want to hook-up with someone, I was able.
Since the accident, however, the women who used to fall over themselves to let me give them the time of day smile politely and turn away, unable to look at me for longer than absolutely necessary, the rippled skin on my neck and cheek too much for them to take. It’s not just women either. Everyone in town knows how I got my scars, but they still stare, shooting pitying looks my way. Poor Mav, used to be good looking enough to make up for his lack of personality, but that’s all gone now.
They know it and I know it. I just wish my family would realize it too. Maybe then they would stop dragging me out into the world like they do every Saturday night. I love my siblings, truly I do, but sometimes it would be nice if they would leave me be. Watching my older brother swing around the dancefloor with his wife certainly isn’t helping either.
Brooks, the second oldest Landry sibling got married just about a month ago to his best friend of four years, Lacey. The two of them have been looking at each other with heart eyes every day since their wedding. It would be annoying if I weren’t so happy for them. It would also be easier to watch if I weren’t so damn sick with jealousy.
I want that, someone who looks at me like I’m the greatest man in the world, not some poor schmuck who got the short end of the stick. Our eldest brother, Sawyer, is at home with his wife Hannah and their baby boy, Albie. They always talk about how it was love at first sight between the two of them and they’ve been solid ever since, mooning over one another and their little one any chance they get. I’m jealous of them too.
I’ve always considered myself a family man, but I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to have it. That would require a woman be able to look at me for more than ten seconds. Even if I could find that, it would also take a woman being able to handle my gruff personality for a lot longer than that, and the likelihood of that happening is less than zero.
The chair next to me slides out and my younger brother, Wyatt, plops down in his chair, handing me the beer I asked him to get over twenty minutes ago. “’Bout damn time you came back with this,” I grumble at him before taking a sip of the delicious amber liquid. “You get lost on the way to the bar or something?”
Wyatt grins. “More like I got pulled into the middle of a bachelorette party and couldn’t get away,” he tells me, taking apull from his drink. “You know they offered to pay me to strip for them? I’m thinking about saying yes. I could use some extra cash and the thought of all those pretty ladies grabbing at me is a nice bonus too.” Wyatt wiggles his eyebrows comically like the total joker he is.
“Please,” our little sister, Scarlett adds. “They must already be drunk off their asses if they’re asking for you to take your clothes off.” She leans over and elbows her best friend in the side. “Right, Georgie?”
Georgiana, who has lived with us for the past few years and has had the most obvious crush on my little brother for a lot longer than that turns bright red. “Oh, I don’t really have an opinion on it,” she says diplomatically.
“Maybe I can help you formulate an opinion by showing off my moves. Come on,” Wyatt says to Georgie, holding his hand out to her. “Let’s go dance.”
“O-okay,” Georgie stutters out before heading off to the dance floor with Wyatt.
Scarlett slides into his now empty seat next to me with a sigh. “I wish he wouldn’t tease her like that,” she says unhappily. “He’s just going to get her hopes up only to never do anything about it.”
I watch the two of them dance, noticing how my brother is holding her a little closer than he usually would. “I don’t know,” I say with a smirk. “Maybe he’ll stop being so dumb and realize when he has a good thing in front of him.”
Scarlett nods thoughtfully before turning her green eyes over to me. All of the Landry boys have sandy hair and brown eyes, yet our little sister has hair as red as her name and the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. She’s the spitting image of our late mother, so much so that it sometimes hurts to look at her. I stuff that down though because she deserves my undivided attention. I may be a bit of a grump most of the time, but I would do anything for my family, especially Scarlett.
“What about you? Sawyer and Brooks are married. Seems like you might be next.”
I snort humorlessly. “I highly doubt that.” I look around the bar and notice the uneasy glances from some of the women and shake my head. “I can’t even get a woman to look at me long enough to ask for a date.”
“Well, have you even really tried?” She asks, stirring a fruity looking drink with a tiny straw. “You could always try apps or Internet dating if the old fashioned way isn’t working for you.”
The idea of having to go on a dating app and create a profile has me pushing my beer away from me. Pictures a huge part of that scene and even thinking about having to put myself out there like that has a rock forming in my gut. “No way. No one wants to swipe right on a guy like me.”
Scarlett scowls at me and punches my arm. It doesn’t hurt because she’s pretty petite and working on the ranch all day has me build like a brick house, but I can tell she wanted it too. “You need to stop being so down on yourself, Mav. You are one of the best looking guys in this town, and one of the sweetest despite your desire to be known as otherwise.” She clasps my shoulderlightly and pats it, not wanting to squeeze my scar tissue too hard. “I wish you saw yourself the way other people do.”
“I do see myself that way,” I tell her, noticing another woman staring at my scars. “That’s the problem.”
Scarlett follows my gaze and the woman quickly redirects her attention elsewhere. When she turns back to me, I can see the anger on my sister’s face. “Fuck her and fuck anyone else who thinks you are less than.” She slams her drink and stands up, offering me her hand. “Now come dance with me because the men in this place suck as much as the women do.”
I chuckle and go with her over to the dance floor, nodding at the rest of our family as we start two steeping along to the music. Normally, I wouldn’t be caught dead on the dancefloor, and if it were anyone other than Scarlett I would make an excuse, but I will never say no to my baby sister, especially after what she just said.
Throwing my arm out, I twirl Scarlett for a moment to make her laugh before bringing her back to me. “Thanks for what you said back there, Lettie-Lou,” I tell her using the nickname we’ve had for her since birth. “Though maybe you could tone down the swearing a bit.”
Scarlett laughs and shakes her head. “No way. Besides, I’m not toning myself down for anyone and you shouldn’t either,” she tells me with a raised brow.
