“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Put it in that column along with everything else I’ve ever said. You know that guy I was seeing?”
“The one from Crawford that you met on an app?” I say, trying not to let my distaste for dating apps color my tone.
“That’s the one." She sighs into the phone. "I dumped him."
“What was wrong with this one?” I mutter.
Allie hadn’t been in a serious relationship since her last boyfriend had cheated on her, and she’d been with him on and off since high school. Unfortunately, I was relatively certain she was still stuck on him.
“He was married.”
“Seriously?”
“He forgot to ditch the wedding ring when we went out last night.”
“Oh, what an asshole.”
“Yep,” she agrees.
Allie was a little flighty and a touch naïve, but it granted her eternal optimism, which was a good yin to my overly cynical yang.
She drew men in like moths to a flame, but the pickings were slim in this dinky town and the quality, lackluster, especially when we’d known most of the boys since their awkward school days and dating some of them would feel downright incestuous.
Allie concluded dating apps were the way to go and scrounged up men from the surrounding small towns, but no one ever stuck, which was fine since everyone I’d met didn’t deserve her.
“Why are men the most disgusting species on the planet? I swear there isn’t a single redeeming quality in any of them,” I say.
“They can’t all be bad. We've just had some bad luck.”
I scoff. “Yeah, okay, Little Miss Sunshine. Keep your optimism and see where it gets ya. They’re all a bunch of egotistical jackasses. Take Wes Dawson, for example. He just rides up in his expensive car, blocks the end of my driveway, and expects me to fawn all over him while he calls the town that I happen to love ashithole.”
“Wait. Wes is back?”
“Well, he was here today, dressed like he was heading to a business meeting while he changed his tire.”
“I haven’t seen Wes in ages. What’s he doing here?”
“He said he’s helping Pops.” My tone is colored with disdain because I don't trust this new Wes as far as I can spit.
“Oh, right. Helping his grandfather, who had a heart attack a month ago. What a jackass.” Her reply drips with sarcasm.
“You weren’t here, Allie. He acted like he was above it all and looked at me like I was dirt on the bottom of his shoe.” I don't mention his perfectly styled hair or the polished loafers—no need to seem petty. But he was nothing like the Wes I remembered, and this pretentious city version of him just didn't fit.
“Was it because you snapped at him and called him a jackass while he was changing a tire?”
Maybe I spent too much time with Allie. She was all too aware of my short fuse.
“What? No! That’snotwhat happened. He was sitting there on top of his high horse, and I just called him on his bullshit, is all.”
“Sawyer, honey, I love you, but you really need to work on your lack of people skills.”
I groan into the phone. “I do not need to work on my people skills. I spend my days around Dixie, the goats, and my horses. They don’t give a shit that I get a little cranky when I’m hungry.”
I loved working out here by myself. Loved the feel of a leather saddle, the sound of the horses whinnying their enjoyment as we trained, and the smell of hay.
It had taken me a few years to get this town to take my horse training business seriously, but I was proud of the life I’d made for myself here. It was mine and no one else’s.
“God forbid anyone annoys you on an empty stomach.”
