When we walk in I see her behind the bar chatting with a group of guys. My anger is immediately elevated, but I’m here to win her back. So I’m going to behave, take my seat, order from the waitress, and keep my eye on my wife.
“You want to sit at the bar or…”
“No. Pick a table. Some of the other guys will show up tonight I’m sure. I’m going to try and give her space, but still show that I’m here for her, showing up.”
We pick a table off to the side, near the small stage she had me build last year for live music. She spots me when I walk by thebar and watches me, her eyes raking over my body before she shakes her head and goes back to her customer.
It gives my ego a boost knowing that she couldn’t stop herself from watching me walk by. Sitting down, I choose the seat that has the best vantage point of the rest of the bar, and her.
I wink at her as her eyes meet mine. She doesn’t return the wink but turns away and sends Dakota over to take our order.
I don’t miss Dakota’s eye roll. Apparently she has chosen sides. I don’t blame her for choosing her boss.
“Murray, so good to see you. Can’t say the same about your company,” she greets us, or him anyway.
“Hey, beautiful.” He turns on the smile that makes any other girl drop their panties, except the one he so clearly wants.
“What can I getyou, cowboy?”
“I’m kind of hoping you’ll give my boy here a break. Look at him.” He gestures toward me. “He got all dressed up…” He leans into her, whispering, “and between you and me I found him crying on the couch, looking at photos of Juliette like some love sick, broken hearted teenager.”
She looks at me, really taking in my appearance. “He does look pretty pathetic. Guess I can bring you two beers.”
As soon as she’s out of earshot, he looks at me. “She’s warming up to me, don’t ya think?”
I chuckle. “If you say so.”
A few of the other ranch hands joined us at the bar tonight, but I haven’t taken my eyes off Juliette. The group of guys from the bar has dwindled down to one asshole. One very handsy asshole. With every subtle touch from him, I downed another beer. It fucking kills me to see another man touching her, and eventhough she’s shrugging him off politely, she isn’t wearing her wedding rings to ward them off entirely.
And fuck if that doesn’t hurt.
He reaches out again, dropping his hand on her hip as she walks by to deliver drinks. She swivels her hips to get out of his reach, but it doesn’t stop me from downing the last half of my drink. She catches my eye quickly, but doesn’t hold my gaze. I’ve been with this woman since she was thirteen years old and I know every look, and every move she has. She is very uncomfortable with this guy.
“I need another, anyone else?” I ask the table.
“You sure, brother? You’ve had more than a few already.” Murray eyes me, judging me as I stand up from the chair.
I’ll admit, I’m swaying a little more than usual, but it’s just because I haven’t stood up since we got here.
“I’m fine. Last chance, any takers?” A couple of the younger guys raise their hands and I tally up how many beers I need to buy.
Staggering off to the bar, I find a spot near the asshole with the audacity to touch my wife. Probably not my wisest choice.
By some miracle, Juliette is the only one behind the bar to take my order.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Hey, Cal. What can I get you?”
“That’s it?”
“I’m busy as fuck. What can I get you?” Her hands go to her hips, and I notice I’m not getting the polite reaction that the other handsy asshole is getting.
“I need four.” I hold up four fingers. Maybe.
“You sure about that? One of those for you? Don’t you think you should lay off the beers for tonight?”
“Nope.” I pop the P. “Murray drove.” I flash her my charming grin.
