And for tonight? I think I can do just that.
A night off, just one evening to enjoy where I am rather than remind myself not to get too attached. It’s a novelty to me, to be spending a night with other women. Anyone else, period, who I haven’t picked up in a bar for forty-five minutes of something you could almost call fun.
Though the bar we’re at tonight, Smoky Suds, looks like a hell of a place to find someone if I were just drifting through. Southern men packed in from barnwood wall to barnwood wall, TVs mounted up high, country music playing overhead, and a pool table and some dart boards on the far end of the single room that makes this place up.
I wonder if Weston would be here, if he weren’t busy working on my van. If he’d be at the square bar in the center of the room, flirting with a tall blonde who looks like the perfect match, the Barbie to his Ken.
Even though it has no right to, an acidic streak of jealousy shoots through my stomach and up into my throat. The taste needs to be washed away, and I forge a path through the growing crowd straight to the probably once-shiny wooden counter at the bar. It’s worn down, patchy in places now, like it’s seen better days. Haven’t we all?
Standing, waiting to be noticed, the counter barely up to my tits, Lexi and Gracie catch up with me in a couple of strides. Perks of being tall women, I guess.
“You can’t just leave it at that.” Lexi’s jaw is set, eyes fierce.
“You’re going to have to tell us everything. I have to know if the rumors are true,” Gracie gushes. “I’m not saying I regret marrying the first man I ever slept with, but a girl does wonder what’s behind the other tent flaps in this town, if you know what I mean.”
My head tilts to the side and Lexi’s mouth flies open immediately.
“Gracie, that wasn’t even the slightest bit subtle. Just say it. You want to know about Weston’s dick. Yeah, babe, we all do. No need to be shy about it. I think Amelia is the only one who wants to know more than you do at this point.”
Gracie blushes, giggling into her shoulder, and I think she really is struggling to meet either of us in the eye. Surprising, with how forward and unapologetically open her best friend is, for her to be so coy on the topic. She gathers her strength before speaking again. “It’s just… I mean, everyone knows someone who’s slept with him, and he’s practically an urban legend at this point. He doesn’t even feel like a local anymore, he’s more like some fabled great lay of years past.”
I snort a laugh, but she keeps going.
“It’s been so long since he lived here, I think the tales only grew with time.”
Lexi nods her head, agreeing. “Yeah, that’s valid. From the stories I’ve heard, he’s either the size of a baseball bat, or he can pick one up with it, like it’s an elephant trunk. With the swagger that man walked back into town with, I’m not even sure I doubt either one of those at this point.”
Hell, with the glimpse I had the other night, I can understand the rumors. Laughter spews from my mouth until Lexi puts a hand on my shoulder, face tight with concern, and I sober.
“Have you heard of oiling the downstairs?”
“Erm, no?”
“It’s something Rory told mewaytoo much about when she was pregnant. A massage her husband gave her to get ready for childbirth.” She uses air quotes onmassage. “Ew. Like I wanted to know. But I think you need to start prepping for Weston now.”
Gracie leans closer, eyes soft with concern, and she nods her head sympathetically.
“Look at you, you’re just a teeny little thing, aren’t you? If what I’ve heard around the bonfire over the years is even a quarter true, he’s gonna split you in half.”
“Like an axe to a log.” Lexi nods sagely.
My eyes stretch wide—I guess that’s called foreshadowing for what the rest of me will be doing in two more weeks—at the X-rated images these women are putting in my head.
“You get those videos too?” Gracie turns to Lexi.
“Do I ever! The things I would do to a strapped, six five tattooed man…” She growls, low in her throat, and a grizzled man next to us turns to look at her.
The girls pay him no attention, continuing to giggle about inked up lumberjacks until I interrupt them, needing to speak up, to defend Weston’s honor somehow. The visual they painted won’t leave me alone.
“I mean, it’s not aslongas a baseball bat…” My voice trails off, and Lexi grips my shoulders with both hands, jarring me as she turns me to face her.
“Are you holding out on us? We’ve been here ten minutes, if you’re telling me you’ve already fucked him and we haven’t heard, I’m gonna have to revoke the town citizenship card of half this place. Nobody, and I meannobodyin this town can keep a secret that well.”
“Shh!” Gracie is far from discreet—really it’s more of a shout than a whispered hush—but Lexi lowers her voice instantly.
“I’m gonna need more than that, Big Momma.”
My lips peel into a smile. “Big Momma?”
