“You seem upset,” Riley says to me with a knowing smile.
“Not true at all,” I say. “I don’t care. Because I have someone. Someone who’s not Logan. Who was never Logan.”
I reach for my phone and immediately text Jamie.
Come to The Cowherd tonight?
I’ve just put my phone away when Riley asks me to come with her tomorrow up to Austin for Wink’s spring training.
“I’ll try,” I tell her.
She giggles and grabs Wink’s ass, and he leans down and tongues her.
Oh, God. Couples are everywhere. I need a break. I look around for a potential exit, the one thing Daddy taught me—“always look for an escape door, darlin’, because no matter where you are and no matter how good things seem to be going, you never know when you’ll need to bolt.”
I finally locate George at the other end of The Cowherd, but before I can move to go offer to help him, Free comes behind the bar followed by Blake.
She says something to him about her term paper, followed by how nervous she is to start college. I’m barely paying attention to their conversation, but I perk up when he ruffles her hair affectionately and says, “You’ll do great, Free. You know you’re a genius.”
When my baby sister, who I’ve never heard to have a crush on anyone, blushes bright red, I send a hard look Blake’s way. He’s oblivious because he can’t take his gaze off of Freedom.
I clear my throat.
Neither of them turns their heads.
I step forward and take Free by the arm.
“Hey!” she says as I pull her toward the back of the bar. “I was in the middle of a conversation!”
I keep my voice low as I say, “Do not tell me you and Blake…”
“No!” She protests loudly.
Too loudly if I want to press her. Which I don’t.
“You know I’m a virgin. Without man, in other words.” She glares at me.
“And Blake’s a player,” I warn her. “A big one. Probably the biggest one in Darcy. He always has been, Free. You can’t trust any boys.” I send a glare in Logan’s direction. “But that boy there”—I point at Blake, who’s now been joined behind the bar by Logan. The two of them are chuckling over God knows what—“He’s off-limits to anyone I care about. Especially you. He’s far too old for you, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“But Blake and I are friends,” Free says. “He looks out for me.”
“Friends, fine. Blake Wild’s a good guy that way. But more than friends? Not fine. Got it?”
She grumbles but says, “Okay.”
Before I can say anything else, she scoots away from me and back to Blake’s side. And I have my own off-limits guy to deal with—Logan Wild is advancing on me from across the way.
When he reaches me, we stand silently and assess each other.
His dark hair’s neatly combed, but he runs his fingers through it in an agitated manner, effectively messing it up. His jeans are hanging so low I could probably see the elastic band of his boxers if I tried, and his forest green shirt is super soft. When the fabric brushes my bare arm, I nearly fist it in my hand and hold on tight.
Space is at a premium behind the bar tonight.
Ben’s on my left, the bartop is on my other side, and Logan’s, well—Logan’s right here in front of me.
I tap my cowboy boot on the floor and try not to appear flustered. But he smiles at me and—shit, he looks so hot I can hardly stand still.
Distraction. Find a distraction, Macey.
