He turns away and makes his way back to his table where a half-finished drink waits.
"You heard that right, Trouble?" Rogue says, giving me a knowing look. "He means you, too, when he says don't pull anything."
"I fucking know.”
The smile he gives me—it's a taunt.
"Yeah, sure you do.”
twelve
Sawyer
A woman with a head full of fiery waves steps boldly into the Stetson circle. It’s the same woman who was all over Trouble the other night. She reaches for him, hands landing on those broad shoulders like she’s done it a hundred times before. Without missing a beat, he spins her into his arms, and she laughs—a sound that almost makes me want to stab myself in the eye.
Watching him, I can see he is every bit the untamed force people whisper about. He’s full of himself but also full of an energy that tries to draw you in and hold you captive.
Unable to watch any longer, I turn back to Honey behind the bar. She slides a glass across the polished wood toward me.
"Sweetheart, you know you stole the show tonight on that bull," she drawls, wiping down the counter with a damp cloth as she speaks. "Had half the men in here all sorts of rattled. One fella even scribbled an extra zero on his tip, so thanks for that." Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles.
"Happy to be of service," I say, my gaze fixatingon the polished wood grain before me. "Trouble thinks I'm some fragile city girl." I roll my eyes. "Had to set the record straight and show him that I can ride just as well as him. I grew up here, and I'm tougher than he gives me credit for."
"Don't let him get to you, Sawyer. You ain’t gotta prove nothing to Trouble."
My gaze drifts over my shoulder once more, a reflex I can't seem to keep in check. Trouble is still on the dance floor, that redhead still attached to his hip. His smile doesn't reach those dark, enigmatic eyes that seem to find mine even in the crowd. I pull away quickly and turn back to Honey, who’s watching me with an all-knowing arch of her brow.
"I know," I say, stirring the straw in my drink. "He just gets under my skin, you know?"
Honey leans forward. "Trust me, I know." Her hands, adorned with rings that catch the light, dance across the countertop. "He's not the easiest to get along with. A lot of people around here don't like that family. Could be jealousy of the land they own, maybe their reputation... Not sure. But what I do know is, being behind this bar, I see people for who they really are. I see their true colors. And that one," she nods toward him, "he's got a heart of gold."
A disbelieving laugh slips out before I can stop it. Seriously? That man? Why does everyone keep saying he has a big heart? The one currently two-stepping some girl into next week like he's the star of a country music video? Toothpick in his mouth like it's part of his brand? Yeah, no. All swagger, zero substance. Probably thinks emotional availability is some kind of horse breed he’s never heard of.
“I think we’re talking about two very different cowboys,” I mutter mostly to myself.
"Oh shit," she breathes out. Her eyes go wide and fix on something—or someone—behind me, telling me allI need to know. Whatever she sees isn’t good, and it's written all over Honey's face.
"What?" I whisper, turning to follow Honey’s stare. It’s the sheriff I met the other night. Except, he doesn’t look happy to be here. His face is stern, and there's something about the way he’s moving, almost like he has tunnel vision.
The Stetsons are laughing, unaware of the approaching storm. It's Danger who sees him first, a silent nod acknowledging the intrusion before he taps Trouble on the shoulder. With another nod, Danger signals Charming and Rogue, and just like that, the four brothers are all cowboy hats, hard stares, and the kind of silence that makes the entire bar feel unsettled.
The air crackles with tension as the Stetsons and the sheriff exchange words I can't hear over the music. It's clearly not good. They're all walking towards the door, and every sane person in the room knows to get the hell out of their way.
"Let's go." Knox's voice is a sudden gust, breaking through my trance. "Dad already left, and I’ve got business at the Stetson ranch, so you’re getting dropped off. And you’re locking the damn door."
"Knox, what's going on?"
"Nothing," he says, but his jaw is set, and I can tell he’s lying.
We weave our way to the exit, and I do my best to keep up with him until we reach his truck in the parking lot. Nothing never means nothing, especially not tonight. But I let the silence linger, biting my tongue to hold back all the curiosity running through my mind.
"I'm going with you," I finally break through, shattering the quiet.
He doesn't look at me right away, keeping his gaze on thedark country road. Then he gives me that side-eye, a glance sharp enough to cut. "Like hell you are."
"You really expect me to stay locked inside when I know something's happening at the ranch I'm staying on?"
"Better to make sure you're safe."
